


When the Bough Breaks

by A_N_Whitmore



Series: Storms and Darkness [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, M/M, Relationship Issues, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:31:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1928442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_N_Whitmore/pseuds/A_N_Whitmore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek meet with Dr. Feldman for an emergency session and end up discovering something that Derek thought was long dead and buried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Bough Breaks

**Author's Note:**

> Warning this chapter may trigger, read at your own risk. Otherwise please enjoy!

“I don’t want to sit in on your session Stiles, you hate it every time I ask, why would this time be any different?”

Stiles just stared down at the bloodied bed sheets praying that _Shout_ and _Oxi-Clean_ could get them white, he only hoped that the blood hadn’t seeped down to the cotton base mattress covering, he’d hate to have to scrub that clean again, Derek’s nose was far to sensitive for it and only pure bleach would do. Not that werewolves carried anything, but Stiles hated the smell of old blood.

In the last few months, things had been getting progressively worse in his opinion. He felt like he was drowning but yet nothing seemed to be changing on the outside. If anything, things were looking up. No one was complaining at the hospital, and even Mrs. Rubenstein from fourth floor Hospice care was cooperating during painting and she hated painting.

Then there was Derek; there was something about this freakish side of Stiles that Derek seemed to secretly want. It was almost as if Stiles wasn’t good enough on his own. Deaton promised it would be finished, that if Stiles just followed his plan, they would have the whole matter cleared up and everything would be back to normal. Now, six months later and no closer to an answer, Stiles was referred to one of Deaton’s colleague Emissaries. Dr. Michael Feldman was an older man who specialized in Dissociative disorders who looked at things from both a psychological and a thaumaturgical standpoint.

Stiles hated it when he became the darker side of himself, he barely had any recollection of what he did and it terrified him. He felt like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde except he never willingly took any potions to make himself do this. When the other side takes over, all he hears is rushing water over his ears and brief flashes of insight into the daily comings and goings of his internal body thief.

When he roused from his internal musings he realised that he already dressed for the day in an outfit that he didn’t remember buying. Instead of his usual comforting plaid shirt or sweater vest and jeans, he found himself in a rich red, buttoned waistcoat vest with a black Oxford shirt and a matching red pair of trousers. He’s even wearing a tie in an Eldredge knot. He didn’t even know what an Eldredge knot was until he looked at the damn tie; which was not even his usual Jerry Garcia style models, this looked like a higher quality. The tie worked with the outfit however, being black with silver accents and red diamonds. This isn’t the first time he’s found himself dressed like a runway model, his other self has a whole bureau dedicated to his clothes alone.

He has to tell Derek to take the credit cards and change the pins on him, if this outfit was over two hundred Derek will read him the riot act. He could still remember the bitch fest of 2018 over the blackout spend spree at the Apple store, (all of which was returned the next day for a full refund). He won’t be on the receiving end of another two weeks freeze out from the bedroom again, Stiles demands them, he doesn’t receive them.

He didn’t even recall if he answered Derek’s response about going to his session with Feldman, it would be typical of him to blank out on an important moment like this. Stiles knows that Derek is just as confused as he is, so they need to sort this out together.

He decided to take the back stairwell down to the kitchen as it’s faster and he’d avoid running into any of the Pack that may have decided to stay over after last night’s movie fest. It wasn’t that he didn’t love “The Notebook”, but seeing it for the fiftieth time was a bit of overkill especially when Lydia was on fertility drugs. He still isn’t sure how to handle that phase of their plan…

Derek wanted to try going the clinical route with his end of things but with Aiden’s death, Stiles had this… urge to be more involved in the creation of his children. Derek wouldn’t have it and there had been things thrown until he’d finally given in, it wasn’t that he’d wanted to hurt Derek… It was about the magic and protection, Stiles couldn’t guarantee anything unless conception took place naturally and his power and Lydia’s had to be carefully maintained since the Nematon. So if they had a successful egg production…Stiles could try the old College try and see what happened.

That was until this ugly monster reared its bastard head again, he wouldn’t touch Lydia without control. Coming to a stop, he watches as Derek flips two veggie omelettes onto their plates. He loves watching Derek cook, it’s like all of his cares melt away in the kitchen and he becomes five years younger in an instant. He swears he can see Talia in the swing of Derek’s hips as he hums along to “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” by Marvin Gaye.

Derek likes to cook breakfast for them on appointment days, he knows Stiles is usually sick to his stomach with nerves and is about to climb the walls, the last thing he wants to do is fucking cook, but he will take an omelette or a stack of pancakes. He eats despite feeling nauseated because it keeps him from switching into his Hyde self, at least for the most part. The hour or so drive into downtown LA wouldn’t be nice on an empty stomach with his Adderall.

This was the first time he’d ever asked Derek to come to his appointment with Dr. Feldman because he’d never felt that it was the right time before but Derek is his husband and he needs to know everything. He needs to be able to see just what Stiles goes through in a session, not just in random switches. It isn’t that Dr. Feldman hypnotises him, but he just knows the words that push the other part’s buttons. They’ve been working on trying to share headspace, but the other self won’t give up so easily, hence why Derek is being brought in.

Afterwards if everything goes according to plan, Stiles is so going to hit up Maggie’s Donuts on East Sixth and grab a freaking éclair or an apple fritter because damn it it’s tradition and he freaking needs a bit of sweet after an hour session from the pit of Hell.

“That’s new.”

Stiles pulled out of his thoughts to find Derek’s eyes roving appreciatively over his outfit and he can’t help but blush at the abject look of hunger in his partner’s eyes. Stiles wondered for a brief moment if Derek was drooling over him or the imposter taking over his life and tried to shut down the angry thought when suddenly the thought answered him.

_“Perhaps you are just angry that he wants me because I can give him what you deny yourself everyday… Pain.”_

“Shut up!” Stiles heard the words pour forth biting as Derek paused and walked over to him. He’s never let Derek see him in such a state, never consciously let him be near when he was about to have an episode or when he came out of one. Yet, today he saw himself dressed to the nines in the Other’s clothing and he’d had sex with Derek while He was in control.

“Stiles? Baby, you ok?” Derek softly brushed his hands over his cheek the way he knows Stiles loves, just the way Talia used to when Derek had a nightmare about Paige. They’ve talked about Paige, slowly worked through the anger issues and built up the damaged isolated walls and defences that Derek built because of Kate. Yet, therapy is slow here, the damage and isolation Stiles feels from the Nogitsune has been something that Derek can’t and probably never will be able to understand.

He felt Stiles turn soft and pliant, moving into his arms as he began to sob, but within a minute the tears stopped and he was greeted with mild kisses up his neck as a bleary eyed teenager stared back at him. “Hey, I think Stiles forgot my glasses again.”

“They’re on the counter Stu. Hurry up and eat, we have an appointment with Feldman in an hour.” The Stuart personality picks up the squared plastic frames and sits down at the island smiling comfortably as he took in the surroundings.

“I take it that Svi’s been up to no good again?” he asked tearing into the omelette as Derek poured orange juice for himself and apple for Stuart.

“I thought maybe you could tell me, you seem to have the information on the neural superhighway up there.”

Derek started to eat his own breakfast trying to ignore the unsettling anguish he’d been feeling in the pit of his stomach. Stiles hasn’t switched to Stuart in months. Stuart was his inadequacy default according to Dr. Feldman. What little Stiles explained of it anyway was that Stuart came out when Stiles thought that he was being too much of a burden for everyone to handle. Stuart was the calm and organised part of Stiles, the part that didn’t seem to need Adderall or anti-depressants. In other words he was the complete opposite of Sviatoslav.

“Nope, no way. I just program the information into the networks, all the information comes down from the higher ups.”

“Just how many higher ups are there? Is Svi one of them?” He watched as Stuart’s head tilts forward and twitches for a moment as the wolfish eyes come back for a moment.

“Niet upryamyy, no asking questions to which you won’t like the answers. Now behave and play nice with Stuart.” Sviatoslav comes up and kisses him fast and hard but leaves Stuart quaking behind him as Derek pulled him closer.

Stuart moaned and pushed Derek back laughing lightly, “You’re gonna get in so much hot water later if you keep this up.”

Stiles tried to negotiate what to do with the others before, but couldn’t bring himself to fully acknowledge them as full parts of himself, so he won’t tell Derek how he wants to deal with them when it comes to matters of intimacy. So he leaves the choice up to Derek and Derek has tried pushing Sviatoslav away but… he hits some core part of Derek that Stiles can’t bring himself to touch yet and Stuart is innocent for the most part. They’ve only slept together once because Stuart reminded Derek of Stiles when they first became a couple.

Derek cried that night because out of everything he had ever done, that had felt the most like a betrayal. Stiles came back to himself soon afterwards but they still had yet to speak of it. They don’t speak of it because Derek said Stuart’s name instead of Stiles’. Derek looks down at his plate only to realise that he’s been eating on autopilot as Stuart reads the paper.

“I’ve been out for three months?” Stuart is shocked, to him it seems as if only a few minutes have passed since he retreated back into the recesses of Stiles’ mind but in actuality it’s been a little over three months and summer has moved into the beginning of September.

“Yeah, look Stu I’ll fill you in on the way but first we need to set something straight ok?” Derek turns to the teenage programmer in his husband’s body. The clothing that looked so tight and trim before now appears ill fitting and loose as though this body shrunk a size or two. It’s strange to see how the other personalities changed the look of clothing styles, Stuart was fit by all means but these clothes weren’t his clothes.

“Shoot but make sure phasers are set to stun man.” Stuart half smiled, his face tinged with worry.

“You know I care about you right?” Derek pressed his hand on Stuart’s/Stiles’ knee.

“Yeah…why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, I want you to know that last time when we… we… slept together, Stiles was angry because he thought I cared about you more.”

“I get it man… you don’t need to do the let me down easy card. If you want to break it off just do it.”

“No Stu, that’s just it. When I say this, it isn’t just a game to me…. When I chose to bond with Stiles, I bonded with each and every part of him… That includes you and Svi and all of the others who may still be in there. In whatever way they may need me as long as it doesn’t hurt Stiles. Every part of you is important to me ok?”

“You mean that?” The sound of Stiles’ voice woke him out of his thoughts and he smiled as he kissed his husband on the forehead. Jesus this has been one hell of a morning. He took Stiles hand and gently covered it with his own as they stood up and made their way out to the garage, pausing to lock the house.

“Yeah I mean it, now let’s get going before we hit traffic.”

“The weather’s gotten a bit nicer.” Stiles always comments on the weather when he’s feeling extremely uncomfortable, his father said it was something his mother taught him to do when he was first diagnosed as a child. As a child with ADHD and a borderline Asperger’s co-morbidity, doctors weren’t exactly sure how to proceed with his treatment plan and so Stiles seemed to flounder for the first year or so. Yet, figuring out medication and sensitivities seemed to help somewhat.

When Claudia died there was a back slide into silence and the sensitivities became unbearable. Stiles would only wear plaid and t-shirts with muted tones and he had to have his mp3 player with him everywhere he went. He started overusing his Adderall to try and calm the storm brewing within, numbing himself down to a zombified state around age twelve.

Greg Stilinski speculated that this silence and acquiescence is just another back slide, a coping mechanism to try and deal with the current trauma in a long list of traumas he’s had to endure. Derek knows he should trust the Sheriff to deal with his son’s issues, but he isn’t on the daily receiving end of three very distinct persons. Derek almost wanted to videotape Stiles so the Sheriff could witness Sviatoslav and Stuart for himself, to know once and for all if this is another “back slide” the Sheriff is so sure Stiles will come out of unscathed.

They turned onto Interstate 5 and Derek looked over at Stiles who appeared to be lost inside his own head. Appointments weren’t his favourite time, even more so when they are off the cuff and unprepared. This however is something that they can’t back out of, they have to go see Dr. Feldman whether they like it or not because both of them have been dealt some serious shit today from within and just talking about it over the phone wouldn’t cut it.

Dr. Michael Feldman wasn’t just your run of the mill psychiatrist, he specialised in the supernatural and all things unexplained. A fellow Emissary, he trained with Deaton and worked closely with Stiles during the earlier part of this turbulent mess and had for the majority of the time had to bind Stiles’ gifts until they could get a better handle on what was happening. The man was a bit like Stephen Fry with twice the sass and sarcasm but he was all business when it came to helping his patients. He only pushed as far as he knew Stiles could go for the day but sometimes even that was a bit of a stretch. Stiles often came out of his session looking haggard and worn.

“You want to put on the radio or your iPod?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Ok, but if you don’t give me some idea, I’ll put on Justin Bieber. I’m pretty sure Madison left her CD in the car last time Allison had us babysit.”

“Hell no, I am too old to hear a whiney little boy sing about girls.”

“Stiles… you’re twenty-eight and I still catch you singing to NSYNC in the shower, don’t give me the “I’m too old” speech.

“Hey NSYNC could at least sing! Ok? Their harmony was beautiful and ‘Tearin’ up my heart’… well… yeah I played it a lot thinking about you. So shut up sour wolf.”

“Really? Well… This is new, would it happen to relate to the night you almost fell out the bedroom window when I caught you singing into a hairbrush?”

“That was Britney bitch. God who taught you pop music?”

“Most of my music interests are Classical, I like Renaissance Era as well and a few Medieval, you know that. You yell at me to turn off the chant music when you’re in the middle of a game because it calms you down too much remember?”

Sometimes they had to go through this, the little minute details of their life seemed to get lost under the onslaught of the alters and Stiles needed a gentle reminder of it occasionally. It acted like a springboard to have the memory pathway dredge itself back out of the filing system that his mind has seemed to become.

Feldman’s given him books to read and take home notes of what to do when Stiles has an episode, they’ve even had a few one on one sit downs together to just talk about how Derek was coping with everything, but in the last four years since this began, they haven’t met more than three or four times and Stiles it seems isn’t any closer to figuring out who heads the whole rodeo show that he feels his mind has become.

Stiles seems to take in the information and roll it around, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Stiles eyes close and cycle back and forth rapidly as though searching through windows of data and he knows that Stuart has to be close to the surface.

“Right, Friday night board games with the pack, you always seem to get out of those some how but I eventually will have you join in on a game of Mafia or Dominion.”

“Right, remind me not to hold my breath darling.”

“Come on! Not even a game of Werewolf?” Stiles threw his husband an exasperated look as he tossed his hands in the air. “What if I sweeten the deal? Would you play then?”

“You couldn’t afford my price.” Derek chuckled at Stiles look of obvious snark; he’d been spending way too much time around Peter.

He found his mind drawn to that morning and Sviatoslav, wanting Peter and himself and he saw his hands gripping the steering wheel with an almost white-knuckle hold. It wasn’t anger that he felt, but rather a severe sense of confusion at the way his body was reacting at the thought.

It wasn’t as though packs had been entirely without unusual quirks in their systems but mate sharing was something that was only done in cases when an heir couldn’t be provided. He was willing to do this with Lydia because she was his pack, but Peter…Peter was his blood. And yet, the thought of seeing Stiles with Peter… it scared him and aroused a curiosity he had never dared approach before.

He wanted to see just how dark Stiles could become… and the thought… the thought… was incestuous because he wanted to touch that Darkness in a way that he never could with Kate and only Peter could be the key. He needed to take a bit of the taint away and if it meant becoming darker to help Stiles, then it was a price he was willing to pay. Yet, was it fair to Stiles? Was it right?

He chose some soothing music by Dan Gibson and allowed his mind to just concentrate on the last twenty or so minutes left of their trip to Feldman’s but the stoic look on Stiles’ face is nerve wracking, like he’d been sent to the executioner’s block. Derek hadn’t seen him look this bad since he’d accidentally created the wrong rune arc and muddled an important portion of one of Deaton’s rituals.

“Hey, let’s get away this week.” Derek pulled Stiles’ left hand to his mouth and kisses the solid silver wedding band, lacing their fingers together, their wrists rubbing lightly together at the mating mark covered by a simple Triquetra that Stiles had Deaton tattoo on them.

“We have the meeting with the Anderson pack later this month and the Midwest Regional Alpha Conference in a week Derek, you can’t leave now, you have to prepare.”

“The Anderson’s are an old family friend, they know us like kith and kin Stiles, we’ll be fine. Besides you and Peter both have all the notes I’ll ever need for the conference and I’ve read them so…”

“Fine… What does the La Crux pack do when they enter the room?”

“Stiles.”

“Answer the question and I’ll know you read the packet.”

“Fine…. Madame La Crux will show her right breast.”

“And?”

“And as the eldest pack Alpha and the oldest member of the Midwest conference, all other Alphas should show their subservience by baring their neck and sucking as a cub at the teat, Happy? I don’t get it they were originally a New Orleans wolf pack anyway”

“Didn’t you remember the tree? She moved her pack when her son killed another Alpha and started a hive or should I say… den? He took her name and tried to kill her but she’s been the biggest baddest bitch queen around for nearly 200 years. I mean damn her pack is huge. She looks like Galadriel for crying out loud…. I swear it’s like you people never age.”

“We age, my mother was only in her mid thirties when she died, but she looked like she was fifty in certain lights. Besides, I hardly think taking a weekend away is going to ruin negotiations for territory treaties. We could use the break now that Lydia’s started treatments.”

“Her cycle should be coming up in about five days, Deaton and Miller said they want to see if she’s going to release an egg or not. Who would have thought a Banshee’s womb could be so picky.”

As they pulled into the downtown area of Los Angeles, Derek looked at the clock and noticed that it was already 12:15. The parking near the Page Museum would be too crowded, but parking near the apartment complex down a block from Wilshire should have a space or two free by the time he fought his way through traffic.

Feldman’s office was located in the complex on the northern side of the twenty-second floor in a penthouse suite. It wasn’t just his office but also a home he shared with his wife and twin boys. In the beginning, they’d been like any other client with whom Feldman entered into a contract with. His home was separate from his client and work atmosphere, but Stiles’ case blew that out of the water the first day they came to session.

Julio had managed to break his brother’s gaming system and Stuart somehow salvaged the mess and gotten it working again within half an hour, Feldman immediately established Stiles right away as a high functioning man with compartmentalised features about him.

His ADHD prepared him for long hours and yet quick adaptability. His hyper focus caused him to always be in tune with those that needed him in his field at work, but it proved a challenge in his treatment process. Stiles didn’t want to see what was occurring in his life, he didn’t want to take the time to write and discover the parts of himself that were causing a downward spiral in his personal life.

It had taken months of work for Feldman to even get one of Stiles’ alters to approach him, and while Derek had been dealing with it for nearly a year and a half before getting Stiles’ to agree to treatment, it was still a shock to hear Feldman talking to Dylan through the door. Dylan, who thought this was all some sort of scripted show, that there was a check involved and that they were only friends instead of lovers.

Parking near the complex, he and Stiles walked half a block down and rang the buzzer to be let in through the door and signed in at the desk before they headed up to be greeted by Michael’s wife Camille.

“Hi, come on in. Michael’s in the office with another client but I have some tea for you and something to eat while you wait.”

She ushered them down the hall into the door of their private home, where for once they weren’t greeted by the sounds of cartoons and children laughing. School time in California was sometimes indeed a blessed time. The Suite wasn’t overly opulent in taste but decoration wise; one could tell that Camille had good style sense.

She tended to go with fawn brown and sage green colours with varying mixtures of desert tones inspired by Georgia O’Keefe prints that were scattered throughout the room. Small sculptures done by local Mexican artists and some modernist pieces made it into a very eclectic yet soothing space. Camille set the tea service in front of them on the coffee table and had started to prepare their tea when Michael came out.

“It looks like you started without me,” he said sitting in an armchair across from them.

Stiles could see his sketchbook and his file in Feldman’s briefcase but made no move to get up since Michael had just sat down. He was not in the mood today, in fact part of him just wanted to forget the whole session and go back home. Michael sometimes liked to do a double header in the comfort of his home rather than the sterility of the office, Camille herself was a licensed counsellor and had been privy to Stiles’ appointments before during his more emotional states but, he hated subjecting her to his Hyde self.

Feldman shook their hands across the table and smiled as he was handed a cup of tea from his wife.

“Ahh tea, the one thing that I can’t live without. The one true English vice I will never give up no matter how much you try to convert me to Starbucks coffee.”

He took a sip, pulling the file up from the side pocket of his briefcase with the opposite hand. Stiles watched him flip it open to the previous session notes and lay it across his lap.

He wanted to rip the damn file apart and sink into the floor at the same time as he watched Camille turn on the small digital recorder.

“So we haven’t seen each other in three weeks, I think that’s good. Have you been experiencing lost time lately Stiles?”

Stiles paused and took a deep breath, nodding. He’d been experiencing plenty of lost hours and listless sleep.

“Ok, what about thought disturbances? Have there been any unusual thoughts that don’t sound like they are coming from your thoughts?”

“Yeah, I… hurt Derek this morning. We had a storm, you know I hate storms and… It caused me to switch.”

“So you acknowledge that you went into an alter state?” Michael leaned forward and took his teacup in hand.

“Yes.” Stiles took a sip of the warm liquid and a bite of a cucumber sandwich with a shaking pair of hands like a two year old.

“Do you remember anything, or was it a completely blank frame?”

“I… I can remember bits and pieces. It feels like I’m under water though or something is blocking my ears and eyes.” Stiles set the teacup back with a slight clack to the tray, wincing at the loud noise.

“Derek?” Michael’s gaze turned to the stoic man next to him on the couch end.

“I don’t want to talk about it if it bother him.”

Camille stood up from her seated position on the floor and walked over to Derek, her kind eyes searching his.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, then you can keep it in secret, but Stiles may be looking for the ok from you. After all today isn’t just about him. It’s about both of you.”

Stiles interrupted her before she could continue, “Sviatoslav, it’s my first name. I don’t go by it; it was my grandpa’s name. Apparently it’s my dark side like Palpatine or Darth Bane or Count Dooku. Anyway… He likes to… likes…”

Stiles’ head lolled forward and his shoulders rolled, with his head twisting slowly to the sides and back up, with that, the familiar wolfish gaze was back.

“Hello again Dr. Feldman.”

“Sviatoslav, it’s nice of you to join us.”

“It’s always nice to be welcomed, but let’s get back to the topic at hand shall we? You recall that the boy said ‘I … hurt Derek’ instead of He hurt Derek? He was more aware and aroused than he likes to think.”

The feelings that move within Derek are unnameable, he dies a little inside, it is one thing to feel sexual excitement when the feelings were mutual but quite another to feel them when against Stiles’ wish. However, he can’t help looking at Svi and wondering how much longer he can experience the twisted pleasure that Stiles has denied him.

“Could you tell me why you had a hypersexual episode this morning Svi? I can still call you Svi right?” Michael leaned forward, adjusting a small digital recorder between them.

“Of course, I was aroused and my libido was heightened to extremes.”

“I wasn’t asking for a clinical definition of the episode but rather your emotional state. Let’s not pretend we don’t know what we’re both doing here.”

“Doctor… I wouldn’t dream of sullying your intellect in such a manner. The simple fact is that Derek likes it when I give him pain and I enjoy giving it.”

“You said that Stiles was aware and aroused… When you say aroused do you mean sexually aroused or more hyper aware of thought processes and physical stimulation?”

“What do you think I mean Mikael? He wanted to fuck the man himself… He wanted to get off just as much as I did.”

“Are you sure it was Stiles? Stiles has told me he doesn’t want to hurt Derek.”

“I think I know him better than most… His dreams…”

“What about his dreams?” Derek looked over at Sviatoslav setting the teacup down with a clatter to the coffee table.

“Three words,” The Russian personality crossed Stiles arms and grinned.

“I’m not playing guessing games today. Tell me.”

“Derek, remember what we’ve talked about on the phone, you need to see it from his point of view.” Feldman moved forward ready to stand up.

“No, No doc I don’t have time for this shit anymore.” He looked back to the smug doppelganger of his husband, “You either give me the words or I have Deaton block you out and I don’t give a shit what you cards you fucking hold.”

“Fine… you’re no fun upryamyy.”

“Chaos, Pain and Strife.”

“What did you say?”

“What, do I have to say it again? You have cotton in those werewolf ears of yours my love?”

“Say it… Again.” Derek pulled his claws slowly from the palms of his hands and watched as the skin sealed over the wounds, leaving behind thin trails of blood that dripped onto the pale blue couch.

“I said _Chaos_ , _Pain_ and _Strife_. From the dark all things have come and to the dark all things return.”

“You… You aren’t… you can’t be.”

Sviatoslav’s accent suddenly dropped and Derek could hear a darker tone that Stiles hasn’t touched in years.

“Answer me this Derek… What is one thing everyone has… yet no one can lose it?”

His husband’s twisted mirror self smiles with deadly brightness.

“Here I’ll answer for you, it’s a shadow.”

“You were destroyed…” Derek shifted uncomfortably, moving to get up and leave.

“Aww… you don’t like the new me? True, Void may be dead, but he’ll always carry the darkness in him. It’s like a stain. I’m always here Derek.”

“We spent months together, getting to know one another, you think a simple thing like death is going to keep me apart from him? Please! I’m Stiles’ cunning; his beautifully unusual thought process, and the one that isn’t afraid to get a little dirty to get what I want. He let me in; I wouldn’t just leave him when he is such a brilliant young man. You should know better than that.”

“Michael… You got any Wolf Lichen lying around?” Derek stood up getting to the door.”

“Can’t say that I do, would this be referring to the Nogitsune?” Michael tilted his head inquisitively.

“Yeah, I need you to find something to paralyse Stiles or knock him out with while I check on something.”

“Derek… I normally don’t make it a habit of knocking out or paralysing any of my patients.”

“Fine, bind him. Hex him… anything. Just get him still for five minutes.”

“Camille turn off the recorder and the lights, I’d hate to fry anything again. And be a dear and get the air and my mobile in the office as well. Turn off your phone if you haven’t already. I tend to blow appliances and electronics when working on the fly.”

“Already done.”

“Seriously… you think this is going to help? I’ll just slip away again… like smoke. You’ll have no idea if your husband murders someone or seriously hurts a person you care about.” Stiles rocked back and forth like a child on Christmas morning.

“You want to feed again?”

Void simply nodded, the lust in his eyes unmistakable. “You let me look and I’ll let you do what you want to me.”

“Anything?”

“Anything…. But there’s no more lies, no more secrets… you ask for what you need.”

“Fine… look your fill, wolf boy.”

Derek sat back down as Void tilted Stiles’ head down, allowing Derek to feel and look for the rough scarified kanji for ‘self’, ko, the snake.

His fingers moved deftly and quickly over the shell of his lover’s ear and down to the base of his skull near his jaw, and there it was still rough and pink. It was as fresh as the day the Oni had transmitted it to his skin.

“Happy now?”

“Yes…”

“Why?”

“Because it means you aren’t Nogitsune, you don’t really exist anymore. You’re a symptom of a disorder.”

“Ahh, but they didn’t tell you that a human could become a fox… did they? He’s got the power to do whatever he wants, and I have already touched him once. Sometimes the spirit becomes what we least expect it to be. He’s been years in the making, someday he’ll have to make a choice.”

“Void? May I call you Void?” Michael had obviously turned the recorder back on sometime during the argument and was looking at Stiles intensely.

“Sure Doc, whatever floats your boat.”

“So… Void… Are you Sviatoslav? Are you the same personality using a cover… or are you someone else?” Derek interrupts.

“I’m not a damn personality… I’m a thousand years old… you can’t just get rid of me; I stay with you like a shadow, like the night. You can’t just bite me and have me just evaporate into nothing… pretend like I don’t exist. I’m a God… I’m a fucking fox! People worshipped me long before you even knew what America was!

“Derek asked you a question though, are you using Sviatoslav as a cover for yourself or does he exist?” Feldman steepled his hands together, and rested his chin on the tips of his fingers.

“Yes… God humans are stupid…He exists ok, the Russian mobster exists and dresses tacky.”

“Do you know why Stiles mind has fragmented?”

“The kid’s always been fragmented… I didn’t cause that.”

“Right, just like you didn’t cause the false reading of Frontal Temporal Lobe Dementia,” Derek snorted looking away.

“I saved your sweet lover, without my body, that would have been him in six months.”

“Then how is he fragmented?” Michael questioned, pulling the topic back to the important issue.

“Simple, I can heal the physical but the mind is also made up of the soul. I copied the physical mind and body but not the soul… and the fragments happen in the soul.”

“Who caused the fragmenting Void?”

“Ohhh… I’m not gonna tell until you make it worth my while, but let’s just say Stiles has one sad little past… and poor wittle Stiles… well Eichen house wasn’t his first looney tunes run.”

“Tell me… or I swear to God…” Derek pulled Void by his shirt to his face until they were barely an inch apart.

“I’ll never tell… I’m not gonna tell!” He began laughing maniacally but his head lolled back soon after and he became loose and relaxed, curling into Derek’s side and yawning.

“Did we get to Dr. Feldman’s? It smells like Earl Grey in here.”

Derek’s body shook as tears fell down his face, “Yeah baby, we’re here but the hour’s almost up. We’re going to go to Maggie’s soon.”

“Good, I’m needing a donut. And Dr. F, man I love you and all but I keep telling you to get Starbucks!”

“I will defend my cuppa until the day I meet my maker Stuart, as a proper British citizen, I do have a duty to uphold. With that said, I think our hour is up. Derek, I’m going to give you a few prescription orders here that I want you to have filled when you get him home. Do you understand? Now, they won’t necessarily keep the alter personalities at bay, but they may help stabilise Stiles and perhaps calm him enough to keep the psychosis episodes to a minimum. I will have a script printed for Lithium, it’s commonly used for Bipolar disorder but does show promise for some DID patients. I also want him on Celexa for an anti depressant and Ambien at night for sleep. Now he’ll need routine blood workups for his kidneys and thyroid and he’ll need to drink at least eight to twelve glasses of water a day.”

“What about his Adderall?” Derek asked rubbing Stuart’s back in a calming motion.

“There’s a very limited interaction, some feel that lithium makes Adderall less effective, but I can always alter the dosage of either medication if necessary.”

“What do you think today was? A new alter from past memories or the Nogitsune’s shadow?” Derek looked nervous and tired, his emotions rung dry.

“We’ll have to keep watch, I’ve only read of Nogitsune and a human becoming a fox by themselves without ties to a spirit… is quite rare. Then again, Stiles is quite unusual himself.” He looked down at Stuart now asleep on Derek’s shoulder.

“Call me if you need anything, just to talk even. If nothing major happens I’ll see you in a month. Remember, write down anything unusual, and call me if he has a major episode or if you feel he needs to be hospitalised. It won’t be Eichen, we’ll keep him in my facility here in LA or in San Francisco.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind… but I don’t want to even think about putting him near a hospital again if I can help it.” He gently shook Stuart awake, “Wake up sleepy head.”

“Sometimes we have to do what’s best for our loved one.”

“Not if it terrifies them, that isn’t the best in my book. It shouldn’t be the best in yours either. Thanks for the tea. Come on Stu… let’s go grab some sugar.”

“Hmm, can I grab some sugar from you too?” Stuart asked as they stood up.

Camille came out and handed Michael the prescriptions and he signed them quickly with his chicken scratch signature, handing them to Derek.

“Like I said, these should help.”

“Thanks Doc, we’ll see you in a month.” Stuart said clapping Michael on the shoulder as they walked out the door.

In the lift, Derek leaned back against the wall and let out a bit of the tension he’d been holding in up in the Feldman’s suite.

“I guess it wasn’t that bad! Stiles didn’t need me till right at the end this time, but wow… I’m tired! I think I could use that coffee with Espresso… maybe a double shot. But hey, I’ll take that sugar now.” Stuart attempted to be sassy and wiggle his eyebrows suggestively but ultimately looked confused in the attempt at an alluring face.

Derek put on what he hoped was a passable smile and laughed slightly as he bent down and kissed his mate gently as the doors opened to the lobby and they proceeded to walk out into the LA sunlight.

Meanwhile Michael stood at the window of the suite watching his patient and husband walk down the street towards Wilshire.

He picked up the telephone on the sideboard and heard a click on the receiving line.

“Council number 8-4-2 Please.

“Who may I ask is calling? This is a secured line, please identify yourself using council district number and ID please.

“USA District number 142 Los Angeles, Emissary Warden number 983-67-141.”

“Emissary Feldman, it’s good to hear from you, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

“I believe we may have a situation.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, well I believe so.”

“Evidence?”

“Self fracture, change in spark signature, manifestation of abilities not seen in familial lines.”

“The mother?”

“Dead, former spark, underwent Emissary training but didn’t pass third stage, low level thalmaturgic practitioner.”

“Name of potential threat?”

“Stiles Stilinski.”

“…. Do not engage, only observe…. Council will end transmission and delete record.”

“I need advisements!”

“Do not engage, delete records of this call.”

The line went dead, not even a dial tone was heard.


End file.
